As I expected, Constance did not remain angry with d'Artagnan for long. She rescinded her order for him to leave, allowing him his room and I was glad for the peace once more. However, I made certain not to leave the house for as long as Marsac remained within it. He unsettled me still, and I did not know what had become of him these past five years. I knew well enough that five years was long enough to utterly transform a man, especially if something had been the catalyst of his conversion. Marsac wallowed in darkness, rage, guilt and a bloodlust for vengeance. A potent mix, and I would not have Constance left alone with him.
It was fortunate I made such a decision. He was gorging himself with wine as Constance made him a plate for supper. I had stepped into the other room for only a moment to fetch something when I heard the murmuring of their voices. At first it sounded like nothing, only mere conversation until suddenly I heard a loud clatter and Constance's voice shrieking. I dropped everything in my hands.
Without hesitation I sprinted back into the kitchen to see Marsac handling Constance forcibly, restraining her wrists to keep her from beating against him as he pressed her against the table. The intent was clear and the fear in Constance's eyes were enough to alight an inferno of rage within me. "Madeleine!" Her desperate cry did not even alert Marsac to my presence as he attempted to burrow his head into her neck and force her legs apart with a thrust of his knee. I exploded.
"UNHAND HER YOU HEINOUS FIEND!" Having lost my senses to my rage, I did not recall picking up the candlestick from the mantlepiece, only that it was suddenly in my hands, and I used it to hammer its heavy weight against Marsac's back. It winded him thoroughly, a heavy gasp escaping him as his body shuddered under the blow of my assault at the same moment d'Artagnan appeared, drawn by the commotion and my outburst. He took even less time to react than I, leaping across the room and landing a solid punch across Marsac's jaw which sent him tumbling to the floor. Setting down the candlestick I grasped Constance into my arms and pulled her away to safety, holding her firmly as she recovered her breath. She trembled against me, but fought to regain her composure as d'Artagnan's dark, heady voice expanded through the kitchen.
"Touch her again and I'll kill you." It sent a thrilling shiver up my body.
"My apologies," Marsac defended weakly as he lay on the ground where he had fallen, hands risen in defeat, "I used to be a man of honour, a Musketeer. Now I…now I hardly recognise myself." Bitterness coursed through me at this, seeing nothing more than a disgusting pretender who sullied the honour of the Musketeer's name.
"Or perhaps now you are merely showing your true self," snarling darkly, I started forwards but Constance seized my wrists from crossing the room to simply beat the simpering coward senseless. "The name of a Musketeer was nothing more than a guise for the lesser man you are."
"Madeleine…" chiding me to stop, I did so only because Constance asked me to. I settled myself, drawing up my shoulders and watching warily as Marsac raised himself to his feet and offered a rather dissatisfactory apology to Constance. She declined to answer him as he scurried away like the rat he was. D'Artagnan followed to deal with him, though I could not help but call after him to say that he should make the bonds doubly tight this time. He nodded his assent before vanishing.
Now I was allowed time to see to Constance. I made her sit down and poured her a glass of strong wine to settle her, offering to fetch her some salts and tonics but she waved them all away, assuring me that she was perfectly alright. "It would be natural if you were not completely alright, Constance. Talk to me, if you need. You must have been frightened," I tried to coax from her, but after she had drained her cup, now rosy cheeked and smiling, she settled her hand over mine.
"In the moment, yes, but in the back of my mind, I wasn't really afraid." This surprised me, and the sentiment must have expressed itself upon my face as Constance laughed. "You were here and so was d'Artagnan, I knew that nothing could really happen to me with you both here." She squeezed my fingers warmly, leaning in closer. "I knew you stayed to watch and keep me safe, and I thank you for it. The moment is over now, and you both ran to my rescue, so I promise you that I'm alright, Madeleine." Studying my friend closely, I scrutinised her words and face, deeply observing her eyes before eventually conceding.
"Well, it is almost a shame that you are," I ventured, looking longingly at the rather excellent vintage I had selected for her. "I was rather looking forward to getting drunk with you again to distract you." Laughing again, Constance pinched my cheek playfully so I swatted her hand away as she rose to continue with the dishes whilst I returned to my own work. It seemed I had only just picked up the needle before I heard a small cough at the door. D'Artagnan had returned.
Immediately I arched an eyebrow at him. He responded with a nod. Good, so Marsac was restrained. Now d'Artagnan peered around the door to where Constance's back was turned, and thus proceeded a rather complicated and somewhat ridiculous fanfare of hand gestures, expressive looks and eventually, d'Artagnan's final attempt to have me leave the room by simply pointing to the door. Ah, I understood now. Smirking, I could not help but understand why d'Artagnan wanted to be alone with Constance. I had long since sensed the affection one bore for the other, and although I should not condone wishing harm upon others in any form, I could not resist wishing that Bonacieux would be struck down by the plague and leave Constance a widow, ripe for the taking.
My smirk must have expressed more than I intended, because d'Artagnan gave an exasperated look as I quietly left my workspace to give him and Constance the privacy they desired. Coming to the door, I gripped d'Artagnan's arm lightly to hold him back a moment. "I will return to the garrison if you stay with her? If you must go, convince her to stay out of the house until he can be dealt with." I looked towards where Marsac was now restrained behind one of the guestroom doors. "I do not trust him. Not at all. He is a dangerous man, d'Artagnan. I fear justice will not be enough for a man like him."
"What do you mean?" Frowning at me with those beautiful dark eyes, I exhaled softly, squeezing his arm affectionately before letting go. I jutted my chin towards the door.
"Men like that expect their justice to be paid in blood." I allowed a moment for this to settle in d'Artagnan's mind. "Stay with her?"
"I give you my word." This was enough to satisfy me that Constance would now be safe. D'Artagnan would not risk her safety again, and so I felt assured to return to the barracks to complete my chores. The rain from earlier left a damp taste to the air but the sunlight was steadily erasing the musky scent and chased away the chill. It was pleasant to walk and bask in the sunshine, and the familiar comfort of the barracks allowed me to fall back into cheerier mood.
Busying myself with the afternoon's work, I noted that Captain Treville was absent, which was unusual. Often he would make his rounds this time of day, but as far as I knew, he had yet to make an appearance. He did not even answer when I knocked on his office door to bring him food. Strange, but perhaps I had simply missed him going out. Most likely he had gone to the palace. All the same, I was glad to see my brother and the others return, though they were rather sombre faced and one of them was also missing. Aramis.
I chose not to bring attention to this, merely brushed my brother's shoulder as I passed him and shared a look with d'Artagnan. With a single glance, he assured me that Constance was alright. She had left the house and busied herself elsewhere. Satisfied, I continued until the clattering of hooves disturbed the relatively peacefulness of the yard. Thinking that perhaps it was the captain I went to the doorway of the kitchens only to discover a woman dismounting from her horse. When she removed her hood, the men all immediately bowed. Royalty, I would guess.
She was a fine looking woman with fair, dainty features, but a firmness of character which held in the uprightness of her shoulders. She carried herself with pride, but there was an urgency to her tone which conveyed the severity of the situation which had brought her all the way to the humble barracks of the Musketeers. "I have no time for explanations. There's an important prisoner being held somewhere here in Paris." Unable to hide my curiosity at the presence of such a strange guest, I drew forwards in order to hear better as my brother answered her.
"You mean Cluzet?"
"You know him?"
"Not exactly," Porthos continued, he and Athos seemingly knowing something the others did not, "but we know where to find him."
"The duke is on his way to find him right now. For the sake of France, he must not discover him." The lady continued with her urgent yet controlled tone, focusing upon the men before her as I continued to linger by one of the support beams for the balcony above. With an educated guess, I would presume this to be the Duchess of Savoy. "Many lives are at stake, including my own."
"We can't stop the duke entering the prison," my brother reasoned, thinking rationally and logically, however Porthos seemed to arise at a solution at my brother's remark.
"Yeah but…that doesn't mean he has to find him inside." Sensing the direness of the moment, I rushed across the yard to where the horses were stabled, calling for them to be saddled and ready as swiftly as possible. By the time Porthos had finished explaining his idea, I had two of the horses ready to ride. When they crossed the yard, I was tightening the girth of the final horse. I felt my brother's hand upon my back so I stepped aside, nodding to indicate the horse was ready.
"Be careful," I murmured to him softly. Catching half a smile, Athos turned to press a firm kiss to my cheek before throwing himself up into the saddle. I backed away as he turned the horse in a tight circle and urged the creature out of the barracks. They were gone in a thundering of hooves, and once the echoes of their sound finally diminished, I released the air in my lungs. Peaceful once more. No doubt I would hear all about this later over drinks at the tavern. Well, they would drink and I would serve, but I would enjoy the stories all the same.
Knowing I would find out everything later that evening, I made to simply carry on with my own duties only to notice the door to the office opening. Captain Treville stepped outside. He looked utterly washed away, drained of all energy and spirit. It was startling to see him so, gripping the trellis of the balcony firmly for balance before eventually drawing himself up. I moved towards him as he descended the stairs where he immediately noticed me. "Ah Madeleine, I would have thought you would be done for the day by now."
"Minor issues arose which took me away, I still have work that needs finishing," I explained vaguely whilst worrying for his complexion. "Captain, are you well? You look…" I did not know how to tell him how he looked without being candid, for he did not look himself.
"I shall be alright, my dear. Come. How about you help me take stock of the armoury? The report is due soon, is it not?" Agreeing to assist, I was glad to be of help but also, glad to be able to keep an eye on the captain. Everyone seemed to be out of sorts of late and it was entirely unsettling. All the same, the captain talked to me in his usual manner, giving me instructions and explaining for the hundredth time the use and purpose of every item in the armoury, despite the fact I had already committed it to memory. In between, he would sometimes recant a story or anecdote of his past, and it was for these I always listened with rapt attention.
These moments I always enjoyed with the captain, time spent in peaceful company where I could listen to his stories whilst working. We catalogued each item, noted which would need repairs or exchanging, took stock of our ammunition and gunpowder and everything needed to create a finely detailed report. I always took great pride in my accuracy, so I ensured to double check everything, going over my notes and counting everything over. I wandered into the next room, running the calculation of costs for repairs and restocking we would require to return the armoury to capacity when I heard a voice. "Treason has to be paid for, Captain." Marsac.
For a moment I froze, unable to comprehend why such a fiend would come all the way here just to seek out the captain and speak of treason. Then I heard the pistol click, signifying that Marsac was armed. My shock dispersed and I hastily stepped to the side out of sight as I caught Treville send a sidelong look at me. Every moment became silent as I set down my papers and charcoal stick, even holding my breath as I glanced around for a viable weapon. "I always thought you'd be back one day." What was Treville talking about?
"Was it money? Were you paid by the duke?" Finding a pistol and hastily readying it with a bullet and gunpowder as I had seen countless times by my brother, Aramis, Porthos and dozens of other Musketeers over the years, I did so as quietly as possible as I continued to listen. "Were you paid by the duke?" Recalling what I had heard Aramis explain of Marsac's theory that the duke had been behind the ambush at Savoy, not the Spanish, it somehow occurred to me that Marsac believed Treville to be in some way responsible. No, I refused to believe it.
"If you think that, you know nothing about me." As I thought, Treville would never be tempted by something as common as money, not when weighing against the value of his honour. There was no response, other than the sounds of footsteps which grew louder as they neared my position by the wall. My pistol was ready, so I allowed myself a breath to relax myself as Marsac spoke up once more.
"I'm going to blow you to hell," he vowed, "but first, I want to know why." I stepped into view, finding Treville standing guard at the open archway where he had been made to move. My pistol immediately focused upon Marsac underneath the captain's arm, but when I attempted to stand in front of him he blocked my way, continuing to hide me behind him with his body.
"Do not put yourself at risk, Madeleine," he ordered me quietly as I heard the arrival of someone else. Aramis.
"Put your gun down, Marsac."
"You are outnumbered here," I ventured to agree, keeping my own pistol steadily aimed at Marsac's heart as his panicked eyes flit between us and Aramis. Marsac, undeterred, pulled the second pistol from his belt and held it against Aramis which made my heart throb in alarm. I tilted forwards slightly, instinctively pulled to keep Aramis from danger but I stopped myself in time. Besides, Treville would not allow me to pass him.
"Whatever the captain has done, he will account for it at a court martial."
"There are clearly two lunatics on the loose, the captain is not guilty of anything here!" A fierce defensiveness surged within at the defamation I was hearing against the captain. "Aramis, I am surprised at you, disappointed even."
"Madeleine, you know not of what you speak," Aramis warned me steadily, maintaining his focus upon Marsac but I refused to allow any believe that Captain Treville was somehow responsible for the massacre of the Musketeers at Savoy.
"Perhaps you are the one who knows nothing, Aramis, what lies has this shameless accoster fed you?"
"Madeleine…"
"After what he attempted to do to Constance, I would not trust a vile word that passes his lips, he is a rogue and a scoundrel. Clearly he has spent five years devolving into a spineless, cowardly whelp of a man, most likely drowning himself in drink."
"Madeleine," Still I ignored the urgency of Aramis's tone, too caught in my own determination to shame Marsac for his beastly behaviour enflamed by the anger I still felt on behalf of my friend. Just thinking of Constance trembling in my arms was enough to propel me onwards.
"How could you believe such a being over your own captain? You are being manipulated, Aramis, you cannot trust Marsac or anything he says, he is not the same man you once knew. Whatever kinship you might have felt, you cannot equate it to the man standing before you, he is…"
"MADELEINE!" The fearsome bellow startled me into silence, my entire body jolting violently. It was a miracle I did not accidentally squeeze the trigger and shoot Marsac as the echoes of Aramis's fury thundered in my ears. "For God's sake woman, for once just be silent!" I might have cried were I made of lesser mettle. The man I desired and had loved for five long years had turned his wrath upon me. For a moment my cheek stung, recalling the slap of my brother which caused the hurt to double in intensity.
The pistol shook slightly in my hand as I stared at Aramis in disbelief, frozen in place like solid rock. A gentle hand curled itself over my own, helping me to steady my grip before removing the pistol altogether, allowing me to drop my arm limply to my side. Now Treville had the weapon, but he did not raise it against Marsac. Shifting his stance, Treville moved so that he was now shielding me entirely, but still I did not move. "There will be no court martial," I heard him speak as I continued to wallow in dumbness. "The king knows what happened. I was acting on his instructions." At present I was incapable of feeling further shocked by such information, but it did prolong the sensation as it clung to me.
"The king told you to betray us?"
"I was told to pass on your position to the Duke. Those were my orders and I obeyed them." I could not believe what I was hearing. So it was true, Treville had betrayed the Musketeers. Marsac had been right, and yet…the king had ordered this slaughter. Did it not plague his conscience? All this time Treville had lived with this guilt eating away at him, yet I could not bring myself to feel the betrayal this truth should bring. Although loyal to the Musketeers, in a way I could understand Treville's position. Orders were orders. Even my brother would understand the meaning of loyalty to the king's word.
"What reason can there be for sanctioning the slaughter of your own men?" Marsac himself was utterly unravelled, grief and fury tangling together in a poisonous coil.
"It was done to protect the king's most important spy in Savoy. The Duchess." I could well believe that, she had rushed here today with such urgency I could have well believed that the world was coming to an end.
"You sold us out to save the Duchess?"
"Cluzet was a Spanish spy," Treville continued to explain, the name once again ringing in my ear. My brother spoke of a prisoner earlier to the Duchess, Cluzet was his name. "He began to suspect she was passing us information. We had to distract the duke and snatch Cluzet before he exposed her." All the while Treville remained calm and rational, Marsac sounded as if he were only one thread snap away from insanity.
"Twenty of our friends were murdered."
"I was misled!" Treville snapped back in retort, his own anger giving rise. My hand jumped to his back wordlessly, the simple touch drawing him to take a deep breath to calm himself once more. "The Cardinal allowed the duke to believe your mission…was an assassination attempt." Now, there was nothing more to be said. The truth had been laid bare for us to witness, and part of me still struggled to accommodate the weight of its gravity. It seemed all of us were deceived. The Musketeers, Treville, even the duke himself. Layer upon layer, each one more complicated than the last. I looked up to Aramis, watched as he processed the facts himself before reaching a conclusion.
"Put the guns down," he instructed once more to Marsac. Quite expectedly, he did not move.
"You heard him! You heard what he said! He's guilty!"
"And you heard his reasons, so…put them down." Still the guns remained poised, both now trained upon Treville who continued to hold me back, pushing me away from the danger by forcibly holding me to the wall where the thick, solid stone would protect me even as I attempted to pull him aside with me, but he was stronger than he looked. Far stronger than me, in any case. He held firm, ignoring my whispered pleas for him to take cover as Aramis tried to reason with Marsac. The once proud and faithful Musketeer sounded utterly hopeless when he spoke his next words.
"This has to end here, Aramis. You know that." Next I heard, gunshots. The burst of sound rattled in my ears, so much so that I shrieked and rushed to cover them as Treville's hand suddenly shoved me down to the ground to safety. In the enclosed space the noise was harsher, more vibrant. It were as if someone was firing the pistols directly next to my ears. The initial shock held me down, but upon suddenly realising that Treville had vanished I scrambled to my feet and moved from where he had pushed me to round the archway. I lost count of how many shots were fired in total, but when it suddenly went quiet, I saw Treville standing rigidly in place.
"No!" Rushing to his side I grasped at the captain, searching for any wounds or gushing of blood, but it was soon determined that he was entirely unharmed. He had moved to expose himself and draw Marsac's fire away from me, protecting me to the last. Only, Aramis proved to be the better shot, and when I looked, Marsac was bleeding from a bullet wound to the chest. Aramis rushed to catch him before he could fall, apologising softly to his old friend before they both fell to their knees. Marsac smiled mournfully.
"Better to die a Musketeer…than live like a dog." We watched Marsac pass in Aramis's arms as other soldiers came running at the sound of gunshots. I had not realised that Treville had wrapped his arm around me and was starting to pull me away. Perhaps he did not want me to witness a man die, simply wanting to protect me from one more dark part of the world, but I found I could not pull my eyes away, even as I was led outside. It seemed like I could feel when Marsac's soul passed from his mortal flesh, a cold shudder running through me as he breathed his last.
Treville pulled me into the warmth and sunlight, sat me down at the table to assess if I was hurt, but other than a little shaken, I had no injuries to speak of. My brother returned later and another solider informed him of what happened. I did not see the look of alarm pass across his face, but I felt it in his grip as he rushed to my side and caught my hand in his and shook me from my stupor. I was in a strange space within my head, caught between bewilderment and shock, perhaps, and a little sad for the pitiful man Marsac had become. No matter his sins in life, I could not begrudge him a little pity. "Madeleine, are you alright? Talk to me," my brother pleaded, rousing me from my thoughts and so I looked at him. I looked at him and I thought of Marsac. Perhaps had things been different, my brother might have become just like him. They had endured similar loss and pain, wallowed in the same darkness, and yet they could not be more different from one another.
In my relief I reached for Athos and embraced him tightly, locking him within my grasp which caught him by surprise initially, but he did not hesitate to return the embrace. He asked me again if I was alright, if I had been shaken by what I had witnessed, but I shook my head. "No, I am merely glad that you and Marsac are not the same." Now my brother lifted his head, loosening my grasp so that he could sit beside me and settle me against him as his gloved fingers began to brush at my hair.
"What do you mean?"
"You could have very easily ended up like him," it was simple enough, and a frightening truth to comprehend. In his eyes, Athos considered the same thoughts as I, reflecting upon how he had become the man he was today whilst Marsac had become…whatever lost soul he had descended into. "You could have become swallowed in darkness just as easily as he had." At this, however, Athos smiled and kissed my face.
"Marsac was not so fortunate as to have a sister such as you to light his way." My face warmed at such words as Athos drew me closer. "Whoever I am today is in part because of you, Madeleine. Do not forget this." With a final kiss to my hair, Athos rose to assist in taking care of the remains as well as attend to his duties. Treville would not allow me near the body and sent me away, telling me that I should not be exposed to such things. He wanted to shield my eyes from death, as much as he possibly could. It was kind of him to think of me, but I wondered if perhaps he saw me as a child still. A child who needed protecting.
A great deal had happened in just a single day, and I was exhausted from it all. However, wages needed to be earned, and so only after a little rest, I returned to work and prepared myself for yet another long night in the tavern.